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Blue light seeps through the dense color of my curtains. Summer. The word seems so distant, too foreign and yet so familiar. There is not a day that will go by this winter that I will not wish for sun shine and cloudless, warm afternoons.
It's 5:55. Too early to get ready, too late to go back to sleep. I just lie there in bed, the comforter pulled tightly around me like a cocoon. My phone vibrates. I ignore it. Probably just Jewelle texting me her random quote of wisdom for the day. I loved my best friend, don't get me wrong. But sometimes I get a little peeved when she sends me advise from Buddhist monks at five a.m.
Fifteen minutes later I hear Mom get up to make coffee. I'm still a little early, but I decide it's time to get up. I kick the covers off, glad the temperature of my room isn't freezing like yesterday. I take a long shower, letting my muscles relax under the soothing steam of the hot water. I take my time to first comb then blow dry my chocolate waves. I glance at the mirror, surprised at how good my hair turned out; normally I have too much frizz.
I don't both with the cover up today because I actually slept well. No bags under the eyes. It makes me smile-- another nice touch. A little mascara on the top lashes and I'm done. I never bother with foundation or blush. My cheeks are rosy enough, and I rarely break-out. I throw on a clean pair of jeans and a long-sleeved V-neck. I'm torn between a heavy cardigan and scarf, or a cozy-but-bulky parka when my phone starts vibrating again. This time I actually look at the screen.
It's Jewelle. Again. Six texts from her in the last half-hour:
*Good morning girlie!
*It's cold - again. When is this nightmare going to end?!
*Got coffee yet? Wanna meet at our fav coffee place?
*Hey u there? Deana?
*Dude, u there??
*Okay, ur cyber silence is killing me. Answer plz Deana!
I roll my eyes. I can picture Jewelle right now, pacing back and forth in her room, waiting for my text. She'll be all ready, of course: she's an "Early Bird" as they call it and can't help but wake up early everyday. She's always ready by 5:30 in the morning, even on weekends. A baggy T-shirt or button-up tucked casually into acid-washed jeans and scuffed-up purple Converse. Died black-over-brown hair stuffed into a messy ponytail, which allows her to show-off some new pair of crazy bird-feather earrings. No makeup, of course because she doesn't believe in it, only a nose stud that you barely notice.
I text her back, answer all six of her texts in one:
*Good morning? Actually is even though its cold. No coffee yet. All ready. What's the word cyber bird?
Her text comes thirty seconds later:
*I was about to call the cops. U r so slow in the morning.. Im freezing 2 death!!!
I laugh out loud, image her doing push-ups and jumping jacks in her room, as I know she does when she get cold.
*Don't sweat it. Meet u at Kev's in fifteen?
*Sure. 'As long as you are awake,
Strive for this with a one-pointed mind;
Your life will bring heaven to earth' (Sutta Nipata)
I smile. Jewelle always knows the right thing to say to kick off my day.